


Not Out Yet

by freebird97



Category: Persona 5
Genre: F/M, pure fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-13 07:14:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12978855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freebird97/pseuds/freebird97
Summary: Down-and-out is what some would say, but he won't allow that. He's here for you more than you can ever believe.





	Not Out Yet

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I suck at titles.
> 
> My mood has been very low recently and I've been writing a lot to try and make myself feel better. In this span I wrote this—I didn't intend for it to get so long but it did anyways. If you've been feeling just as low as I've been I hope this will at least make your day a little better.

For hours now you've been staring at your ceiling as you think of everything and anything. Anything to keep you distracted from the looming darkness. Everything to distract from the anything. This method has always proved foolproof until now, it seems.

Rolling over onto your stomach, you crush a pillow into your hold and bite your lip. The darkness around you isn't absolute so you can just make out the time upon your alarm clock—1:03 AM. You won't be getting much sleep before work today. Typical.

"Fuck everything." Your grumble is lost into the confines of the pillow your currently squeezing to death. A long sigh is lost, too.

You shiver when a night breeze blows across your room, but pay little attention to it besides tucking yourself further into the comforter. Usually you don't leave the windows open at night, especially since fall is finally settling in, but, the coolness seems to help you fall asleep. And considering how little of that you've been getting lately it's been a big help.

Suspended silence sits for what feels like forever. Your stare is wholly on the clock, but you're not really watching the numbers tick by. You're still lost in the constant swirl of thoughts; those thoughts that are beginning to turn darker as you find less random things to think about. Even when a small creak and the following near silent tap of boots touching hardwood floor alerts you that you're no longer alone you don't react, you just continue to stare ahead and let your thoughts wander.

"You're late," you quip once he sits down on the bed. You don't move, even when he places a hand upon your calf and feel his questioning gaze. "Rough night?"

He doesn't answer, instead asking his own question. "Is something the matter?"

He's always been amazing at reading your emotions, even in the dark. You don't know how he does it, really. Every time you see him, or what little you can see of him in your dark room, he's always impossible to figure out. You would say he's as emotionless as stone, yet you know he's not. Otherwise he wouldn't keep coming back and talking to your troubled self.

You shake your head, not feeling like answering him. Silence sits between you two, it lying heavy. You can feel his eyes on you and it doesn't bother you at first—not until the silence continues to sit and fester. 

"What?" You snap at him, finally having enough of his staring. Moving your head slightly, you glare at him out of the corner of your eyes.

For once, an expression that you've never seen him do is on his face. More than one, actually. He's frowning and even with the mask you can tell his brows are crinkled in concern. When he speaks, he speaks slower than normal, clearly lacing his words carefully. "You don't have to tell me, but I'm sure it'd make you feel better if you did. So, I'll ask again: what's wrong?"

Your glare dies. Emotions begin to rise up, threatening to consume you all over again. You take a shaky breath, another, then cling tighter to your pillow. With what little you can muster, you sit up. You put the pillow down and instead hug your arms to your chest as if everything will inside will burst out if you don't. As you contemplate all the you should tell him you stare at the floor.

"A lot of things." You start out slow, but as you move on your words move faster and faster as it all just tumbles out. "My job sucks. I barely get paid enough to scrape by and I need another one but it's so hard to get a new one. I'm all alone; my friends are either miles away or straight up don't really talk to me. I have no idea what I want to do with my life. I feel trapped and confused and. . . and"—you let a long sigh lose, then shake your head. All that you just said has been on your chest for a while, and though it feels good to confess it all, it still sits there and pesters you. "I just feel all alone and depressed."

Once again, silence reigns. Yet this time it doesn't sit for an eternity. This time it's broken after a few pauses. "You're not alone."

Curious as to what he might say, you turn your head to look at him. His expression is both caring and determined—an odd mix, but it suits him. He's always been a bit fiery, after all.

"You're not alone," he repeats. "Though our objectives seem different, they're not. You wish for stability in your life and I wish for it for everyone. You feel as if you have no one to count on anymore, but what you don't see is the person who comes to your room every single night without fail." You look away, but the second you do a gloved hand is pulling your face and gaze back. Eyes wide, you stare at him as he stares at you. "It's okay to feel as if there's no hope, I've felt it and feel it all the time, but you are not alone. Not at all." 

His hand lingers for a minute before he pulls away. Emotions have welled up once again, but this time the dam breaks. Sniffling, you reach towards him. He gets the message and pulls you into an embrace. The moment you're comfortably in his arms, the dam is set loose. Sobs rack through your chest as tears stream down your face. You don't pay attention really, but you do manage to hear some of the sweet words falling from his lips. They just make you cry harder.

After a while your sobs turn to sniffling. Even when they do he doesn't relinquish his hold upon you. It only becomes tighter, almost suffocating but not. It's oh so comforting and the thing you need right now.

His fingers stroke through your hair, but stop once you've almost completely quieted down. Once they stop both his warm hands are on your cheeks and are brushing away the lingering tears. Despite wearing gloves, the texture is soothing upon your face. "Y/N, look at me."

You do. His expression is as warm as his hands that still touch your cheeks. "If you ever feel all alone again, I'll be here in an instant."

"How? Do you have a second sense of when I'm in a bad mood?" You joke. He shakes his head, chuckling. It sends a warm feeling throughout you.

"If only." He suddenly grabs your hands, his thumbs circling the top of them. "I want you to take off my mask."

You almost ask if he's sure. Almost, for you see the look in his eyes. He's sure by the way his eyes are alight with emotion. He's sure by the way he continues to hold himself tall. He's completely sure of what he's asking.

You swallow. "Okay."

Slowly, you take your hands from his. First, you place them on his cheeks. You feel your own get warm, but ignore it to the best of your ability as he watches you severely. Next, you trace the edge of his mask with one hand. You've already memorized how it looks just like the rest of him, but now you're finally getting to touch it. You know he wears it to hide his identity, yet, you can't help but wonder if it has another purpose. Then lastly you gently grip the edge. You take one more look into his eyes before you take it off.

You don't know really what you were expecting when you would finally get to see his face, but it wasn't him looking so trusting. Your heart thuds wildly as you get a good look at him for the first time. He's just as beautiful with the mask off as it is on. One hand comes up to your cheek again while the other strays to your hip. Your blush deepens further as he continues to stare.

"What's your name?" You ask hesitantly.

"Akira Kurusu." His reply is quick and light. "May I kiss you?"

Shock courses through you, but you don't hesitate when you shake your head yes. He smiles for a second, an easy one that has your heart fluttering further, then he's leaning forward. You close your eyes.

His lips are warm, just as inviting as the rest of him. The kiss is soft and gentle, him seemingly testing the waters. When he finds no resistance he deepens the kiss just a little further by opening his mouth. Without hesitation, you throw your arms around his neck and give in to your feelings. 

By the time you are done kissing you've been left breathless. By the way he's gasping for air, you can tell he's just as affected.

"That was. . ." You can't even finish your sentence, finding absolutely no words to describe it.

"I've wanted to do that for a long time," he says, smiling wide. Suddenly, like a flip of a switch, he's serious again. "Now, may I have your number? And your promise to tell me if you're ever feeling low?"

Your reply comes as easily as breathing. "Of course."


End file.
